


YOI Regency Week promotion pieces

by Linisen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/F, F/M, M/M, YOI Regency Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22831849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linisen/pseuds/Linisen
Summary: A ficlet collection of YOI Regency week promotion pieces - parings in the following order:Mr. Katsuki/Mr. NikiforovMr. Plisetsky & Mr. Plisetsky (Yuri and his grandfather)Mr. Giacometti/Mr. AltinMr. de la Iglesia/Mr. JiMr. Lee/Mr. ChulanontMr. Popovich/Miss. BabichevaMiss Katsuki/Miss CrispinoMr. Crispino/Mr. NekolaMr. Katsuki /Mrs Katsuki
Relationships: Katsuki Hiroko/Katsuki Toshiya, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Leo de la Iglesia/Ji Guang-Hong, Michele Crispino/Emil Nekola, Mila Babicheva/Georgi Popovich, Nikolai Plisetsky & Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin/Christophe Giacometti, Phichit Chulanont/Lee Seung Gil, Sara Crispino/Katsuki Mari
Comments: 26
Kudos: 118





	1. Mr. Katsuki & Mr. Nikiforov

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> So, I don't know how many of you have noticed that we're moding a themed fandom week, but YOI Regency Week was introduced a few weeks ago. There's been ficlets posted on tumblr and twitter for it for a few weeks now and we thought maybe we should share them with you too, so here's the ones that's been posted so far. They're beween 300-1000 words each, and focuses on different parings in the following order: 
> 
> Mr. Katsuki/Mr. Nikiforov  
> Mr. Plisetsky & Mr. Plisetsky (Yuri and his grandfather)  
> Mr. Giacometti/Mr. Altin  
> Mr. de la Iglesia/Mr. Ji  
> Mr. Lee/Mr. Chulanont  
> Mr. Popovich/Miss. Babicheva  
> Miss Katsuki/Miss Crispino  
> Mr. Crispino/Mr. Nekola  
> Mr. Katsuki /Mrs Katsuki
> 
> This way you can skip the ones you might not be into. If you follow [this link](https://yoiregencyweek.tumblr.com/) you'll find the tumblr page for the event, as well as art made for each ficlet. Please help vote for the promts for the week by using [this link](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfs9BbvsGLetIXOv8OAwzf6ouc7SzN1_2QfWr8IUkq5NfZHxg/alreadyresponded?vc=0&c=0&w=1). It's open till 1st of March. 
> 
> Hugs,  
> Linisen and IA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Katsuki & Mr. Nikiforov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ficlet tags: Victuuri, omegaverse, falling in love - Rating M

There are few things that made Victor Nikiforov lose his composure. He could count on one hand the times it had happened since presentation as an alpha, and all of them have been associated with Yuuri Katsuki. 

The first time can hardly count as Victor’s fault at all. He had only been a year into presentation, hormones still raging in his veins, when Yuuri Katsuki stepped out from the carriage to attend a ball at the Nikiforov estate. Victor had been unable to stop himself from turning Mr. Katsuki’s hand and taking a deep breath right above his scent gland. His nose graced the glove-covered scent gland, and a gasp left Mr. Katsuki’s lips. It was a soft and almost inaudible, but Victor still heard it. He was sure he had been found out, and that Mr Katsuki would alarm his family. He glanced up to catch Mr Katsuki’s eye, which had grown wide in surprise. Victor carefully let go of his hand and straightened, still holding that caramel gaze. Mr Katsuki looked stunned, and Victor’s lips quirked up in a smirk. 

“Pleasure to meet your acquaintance Mr. Katsuki,” he greeted. “I shall hope you will save me a spot on your dance card.” 

“Yes,” Mr. Katsuki answered, a bit breathless. Perhaps Victor’s show of interest and lack of property was not unwanted. “I do enjoy to dance.” 

The second time was during a picnic that Lady Baranovskaya had ochastrated. Victor had been delighted to know Mr. Katsuki would be in attendance, and had approached the omega as soon as he was able. 

“Perhaps I could get you something to drink?” Victor asked, turning towards Yuuri who locked his wide eyed gaze to him.

“Thank you, that would be most kind,” Yuuri agreed, his long dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks bashfully. 

“How is the summer season treating you?” Victor asked after fetching lemonade, and Mr. Katsuki smiled the most lovely smile, making Victor’s heart leap in his chest once more. The conversation was very pleasant, and Victor found himself enthralled by Mr. Katsuki’s wits and humor. So much, that he did not notice the dark clouds that hurried to cover the previously blue sky. Thunder cracked, and the sky split open to pour down on them. They were both soaked in a second. 

They hurried towards the tent to seek shelter. The muslin of Mr. Katsuki’s dress clinged to his frame, the white fabric sheer from the pouring rain. Victor could see every curve of his body from where the fabric had slicked itself on his skin. He averted his eyes quickly, even if he wished to look longer, to linger and see it all. Yuuri Katsuki is most lovely, and having more of his features on display was something Victor found hard to deny himself. As he looked away, he caught the wide eyed gaze of Yuri Plisetsy. The alpha’s eyes had dropped to Mr Katsuki’s form, lingering. A possessive growl rumbled in Victor’s chest. It was unbefitting for an alpha of his stature to act in such a way over an omega that was not his, and yet he could not stop. He hurried to shrug out of his jacket, only to hang it over Mr. Katsuki’s shoulders. Mr. Katsuki looked startled, but took a deep breath of Victor’s scent. For an alpha to be so bold was most definitely cause for scandal, but Mr. Katsuki did not seem to mind. 

“Thank you,” he breathed, taking another deep breath of Victor scent. 

The third time cannot be blamed on Victor either, because surely the stupidity of others cannot be something he shall have to answer for. They were at yet another dance, and Victor had to clench his jaw tightly so not to let his jealousy spill over as he watched Mr. Katsuki move across the dance floor in Mr. de la Iglesia’s arms. Victor was fairly certain that neither Mr. Katsuki nor Mr. de la Iglesia had any interest in each other beyond friendship, but there was still a possessiveness drumming in his veins as he watched them move across the dancefloor. He had to refrain from cutting in. He was saving their dance for later in the evening, for he wished for his touch to be the last Mr. Katsuki remembered during the carriage ride home. He made his way around the dancefloor instead. He was just passing a group of alphas when he heard a name he recognized.

“Frankly I do not see the appeal,” Mr. Bin said. “No matter how pretty their youngest is, is beauty truly worth the trouble of such a low class family?”  
Victor felt his stomach turn. For all Victor knew about the Katsuki family, they were hard working, well-educated, and their estate was prospering in the gentry class. He felt anger rise in his chest, and even though he should refrain from saying something, he found he could not stop himself. 

“Mr. Bin,” he said, calling for the attention of the entire party. “Perhaps you should see too that you are able to pay your staff fairly, before you start judging others.” Victor got the pleasure of seeing Mr. Bin’s mouth drop in shock, before he turned and walked away. Perhaps he should ask Mr. Katsuki to dance now after all.

The final one is the most scandalous one, Victor knows. Yuuri Katsuki was withering in his bed, forehead damp with sweat and pheromones filling the bedroom, calling out for an alpha to take care of him, and oh how Victor longed to answer.

“Mr. Nikiforov please stay,” Yuuri gasped, back arching as another wave of his heat rushed though his body. Yuuri had fallen ill during dinner, or so they had thought. He was just about to leave to send one of the serves for the doctor when the first true wave hit. Victor should have realised. Yuuri’s scent had been even stronger tonight, and it had only grown sweeter as the night progressed. It was not proper, but Victor could not deny either of them this, if they both longed for it. He looked at those dark eyes, almost black as the night now. Yuuri turned onto his stomach in a lewd display of presentation. 

“Alpha,” he breathed, and Victor felt a shiver run down his spine. He shrugged off his jacket and let it fall to the floor, joining Yuuri on the bed. 

“If we are to do this my darling, I feel it would be best if you would call me Vitya.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri breathed. “Please take care of me.”

“I promise,” Victor agreed, finally letting his hands touch heated skin. It shall have to be a fast wedding, he assumed. 


	2. Mr. Plisetsky and Mr. Plisetsky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About Yuri and his Grandfather

Ficlet tags: Yuri Plisetsky & Nikolai Plisetsky, worried grandfather, rebelious behaviour, background Yuri/Otabek - Rating G  
  


* * *

Mr. Plisetsky was a noble man, not only for the sake of his upbringing and social status, but his conscience promoted him to act in a gentlemanly manner. Even still, he could not help but feel frustrated by the day’s turn of events. He sighed as he leaned back against the headboard of his wife’s bed, the covers warm over his legs. Alissa had a book open on her lap, and Nikolai sighed heavily, trying to gain her attention without asking for it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her glancing his way, but her attention turned back to the book before he could capture and hold it. He squirmed, then sighed again. 

“What troubles you, darling?” his wife asked, eyes still on the book. 

Nikolai turned to face her, as best he could with his aching back in the small bed. “You know full well what,” he stated, but it was without malice or anger. He heard how tired he sounded, and he let out a long breath to try to release some of the tension in his shoulders. 

Alissa looked up, green eyes clear and smile soft. “I do not think we need to concern ourselves too much with it,” she said, placing a comforting hand on Nikolai’s arm. “For all we know this...interest of Yuri’s will die down just as fast as all the others.”

“I wish it to be so,” Nikolai agreed, closing his eyes as he remembered when Yuri came to live with them, only a child and so full of life. His interests had all been intense but short lived. Hopefully, this new one would be so as well. “I promised Anya that I would take care of him.” 

“And we have,” Alissa comforted. “I would like to believe we have made her proud in how we have been raising Yuri. He can have a temper, but he is kind and compassionate, strong.” 

“Strong willed you mean,” Nikolai muttered. Alissa smiled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I just… I do not approve of him socializing with the stable boy.” 

“He came with many good references,” Alissa reassured, patting his arm again before setting the book on the nightstand and lying down. “If Yuri is interested in the horses, what harm can there be in him spending some time in the stables?”

“Perhaps you are right.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead before he blew out the light. As he settled into bed, he thought that a great deal of harm could come from his grandson and heir to the earldom spending time with the dark eyed stable boy, one Mr. Altin. 


	3. Mr. Giacometti & Mr. Altin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Giacometti & Mr Altin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ficlet tags: Chris/Otabek, sickfic, mutual pining - Rating T

“This is terribly inconvenient,” Dr. Giacometti huffed as he pulled harder at the cloth he had wrapped around Otabek’s leg. Otabek was not sure if the wrapping or injury hurt more, especially since Dr. Giacometti put even more force into tightening the cloth around his leg on the way up. 

“Must it be so tight?” Otabek asked, and Dr. Giacometti looked up from Otabek’s leg to give him a stern look. It seemed terribly unfair, that he could be so beautiful even when cross. 

“It must Mr. Altin,” Dr. Giacometti insisted, and Otabek hissed as he pulled the cloth even tighter. “I wish to steady it as much as possible.”

“If you wrap any tighter I might lose my leg,” Otabek said and Dr. Giacometti huffed once more, fastening the wrap with a knot. 

“If you had not spent more time in here wounded than on the actual training grounds-,” Dr. Giacometti pressed, and Otabek could not hold back then. He grabbed the doctor's face between his hands carefully, stilling his rambling. Dr Giacometti did calm then, green eyes blinking slowly. He’s terribly pretty. Otabek had never before seen a man with fairer features. 

“It is simply a scratch,” Otabek said, but Dr. Giacometti frowned, shaking his head in Otabek’s grasp. “You do not need to fret.”

“I am not fretting. I am simply worried you are going to seriously injure yourself one of these days,” Dr. Giacometti snapped back. Otabek sighed, but he tipped his forehead forward, releasing a slow breath. 

“Christopé,” he said softly, and that is truly all it took for the doctor to rise from his kneeling position on the floor, pushing up to claim Otabek’s lips. 

“Stop scaring me,” Dr. Giacometti said against his lips and Otabek nodded, claiming his lips fully once more. 


	4. Mr. de la Iglesia & Mr. Ji

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. de la Iglesia & Mr. Ji

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ficlet tags: LeoJi, pining, Asking out.

Leo took another deep breath, hand on the handle to the polish room. He tried to push down the nerves that kept creeping up his spine, without much luck. He shook his head in hopes of centering himself. He could do this. He could do this. He could-

“Mr. de la Iglesia,” the housekeeper, Mrs. Barnes said, startling Leo enough to make him drop the handle and stare wide-eyed at her. “What are you doing? You have been standing at this door for quite some time now.”

“I am sorry,” Leo said, looking down at his impeccably polished shoes, embarrassed. 

“It does not do anyone any good to linger, Mr. de la Iglesia,” she said, walking towards him with determined steps. She was a kind housekeeper, but strict. One had to be, to run a household for an Earl. She came up to him, and her eyes grew warm, skin wrinkling at the corner of her eyes. A firm hand landed on his shoulder. “I am sure it will go alright,” she said, tone as warm as her eyes, and a soft smile played on otherwise firm lips. “Just get on with it.”

Her hand left his shoulder and she walked down the corridor towards the servants hall, where the rest of the staff had just finished lunch. There was some time to spare now, waiting for the family to be in need of their services again. Leo took another breath. Mrs. Barnes was right. If he dallied much longer he would lose his opportunity. 

The door opened easily under his touch once he pushed down the handle, and the object of his affections looked up from where he was mending a button on a shirtsleeve to catch Leo’s gaze. Guang Hong smiled as he saw who it was, placing the garment in his lap. 

“Leo,” he said, in that way that so often caused Leo’s heart to race and tremble. “Did you need something?”

“No,” Leo said, stepping further into the room. “I mean, yes.”

Guang Hong looked at him with a puzzled expression, brows furrowing adorably. He was truly too fair. Leo had been smitten at first sight. “Well which is it?” Guang Hong asked with a smile, and Leo closed the door behind him, rubbing his palms that had sweat breaking out across them on his pants. He walked up to the table to place them there instead, trying to ignore the nerves that were rising in his chest. 

“When is your next day off?” Leo asked, and Guang Hong tilted his head in thought, that lovely plump underlip sucked into his mouth. 

“Next Wednesday, I believe,” Guang Hong said after some thought. “I have not been counting down to it, since I have nothing planned.”

“Would you go out with me then?” Leo asked, the words rushing out of him in one breath. Guang Hong’s eyes grew wide and for a moment they simply started at each other. 

“Out with you?” Guang Hong repeated, as if needing clarification. Leo’s hand fidgeted on the worktable, shifting from foot to foot. 

“Yes. I would very much enjoy to take you out,” Leo said, and had the lovely opportunity to see a blush paint Guang Hong’s cheeks pink. 

“I would enjoy that too,” he answered, and Leo’s heart leaped in his chest, feeling tight and wonderfully large at the same time. A smile broke out across his face, and Guang Hong echoed it, looking down into his lap at the shirt. 

“I will go set it up with Mr. Murphy then,” Leo promised, dedication to convince the butler to give them leave on the same day filling him. Perhaps Mrs. Barns could help him persuade the old man. 

“Alright. I’ll see you later,” Guang Hong said, and Leo nodded, walking out of the room once more. As he closed the door, he looked down the hall to see Mrs. Barnes looking towards him. Something must have shown on his face, for she smiled and gave him a nod, before continuing towards the kitchen. 


	5. Mr. Lee & Mr. Chulanont

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Lee & Mr. Chulanont

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ficlet tags: SeungChuChu, bedsharing. Rating T.

Phichit woke with a start, heart already racing in his chest from the loud shouts coming from the floor below. It only took him a moment to realize what was happening, and he was out of bed in an instant, grabbing a robe to tie around his waist over his night clothes. He raced down the stairs, and without so much as a proper knock he flung open the door to his master's chambers. It was hardly considered decent to enter the lord’s private rooms in this state of undress, but Phichit did not have any time to waste. The nightmares that plagued Lord Lee were something that tore Phichit appart, and he could hardly care to put on his livery to soothe them. He rushed across the floor to the man twisting and turning in bed, laying his hand on his damp face. The nightmares always caused Lord Lee such distress, and it pained Phichit greatly to see it. 

“My lord,” he called, trying to break the twisting and turning of the other man to calm him, to pull him back to consciousness by the sound of his voice and his camling caresses on his cheekbones. “Lord Lee, please.”

“No, no,” his lordship gasped, still in the clutches of the dream. He twisted again, causing Phichit to lose his balance. He put a knee on the bed to not topple over, and with a firmer grip on the delicate features of the man, Phichit called out again. 

“My Lord, Seung Gil, please,” he called, hoping his lordship's given name would pull him into the world, instead of the one playing before his eyes. Mr Lee gasped, and his stormy dark grey eyes met Phichit’s with a wide stare. 

“Chulanont,” he gasped, blinking. His body was still incredibly tense as he simply stared into Phichit’s eyes. Oh how lovely he is, Phichit thought, his heart aching both from the strain of worry about the nightmare, and from the unrequited love he felt for this man. He had loved him from the first time he laid eyes on him, being employed in this small household as a valet and butler. It had been years, and Phcihit knew he would never leave as long as he was welcome, because even if he knew he would never have the man he loved - the pain of parting was far too great to consider. “What-”

“Another nightmare, sir,” Phichit said, starting to pull back. He did not wish to make Mr. Lee uncomfortable. It had taken them a long time to form the good relationship they now had, and Phichit was scared that too much physical contact could threaten to push them back to the time when Mr. Lee flinched every time Phichit touched him while helping him dress.    
“Don’t-” Mr. Lee started, hands coming up to cup Phichit’s over his cheeks. His eyes were frightened, but not in the same way as they had been just a moment ago. “Do not leave, please.”

“Oh,” Phichit said on a breath, feeling his heart start to race. “How do you… would you like for me to sit in the armchair until you fall back asleep?” he asked, even if his fantasies raced away much faster than something so innocent as sitting at the armchair in the corner of the room. Mr. Lee shook his head, pulling a pale pink lip in between his teeth. 

“If it does not make you uncomfortable, would you lay down next to me?” he asked, and all other worldly things seemed to melt away. The only things that remained were Mr. Lee’s hands on his, and the question hanging in the air. 

“Few things would make me happier,” he breathed, and a soft pink blush colored Mr. Lee’s otherwise pale cheeks. He moved to the side, hand sliding off Phichit’s face so as to raise the covers. Phichit slid in under them, and then Mr. Lee’s hands found his, lacing their fingers together. 

Neither of them slept anymore that night. 


	6. Mr. Popovich & Miss Babicheva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mila has feelings for her Lord Uncle's page.

The day was horribly droll, nearly forfeit already at only half past ten; Mila had already decided it, the grey sky shadowing what would have been a lovely day for a ride in the country. Her finishing lessons with Mistress Lilia were to begin after tea, and in the meantime she had busied herself with a book that she had already read three or four times… something bland and unexciting as the gray sky hanging above them. 

The only thing of any _genuine_ excitement was the daily arrival of her Lord Uncle’s page, his fair features escaping the toil that being a glorified errand boy brought. (His words, never her own. Lady Mila would never be so crude in refined company.) 

Georgi, his name was, those brilliant sapphire blue eyes sparkled whenever they met Mila’s gaze, always her Lord Uncle caught between them, or spotting him in the stables, detacking Uncle Yakov’s horse. The moments they shared were spare, that was certain, only ever soft greetings, a polite exchange of pleasantries, an apology for dirtying the hem of Mila’s dress with the deliveries. 

“Pay it no mind,” Mila had said, laughing at the thought of the housekeeper’s face twisted with disapproval of even a speck of dust on her velvety frock.

But it never failed to make her heart flutter when he smiled, or seeing the flush that crossed his cheeks when he was reprimanded by her uncle for a mistake. (Nothing was ever truly worth praise in Ivy Grove, Mila had quickly learned when she came to live there.)

The bell at the door jingled lightly, announcing someone’s entry into the kitchen, making Mila start from her place in the breakfast nook, nearly dropping her novel on its spine. She peered out from around the curtained window seat, praying that the visitor wasn’t Mistress Lillia arriving early to see Mila sitting in a manner unfitting a Lady of her status.

A sharp breath inward made one of her red ringlets shudder against her lips. _Georgi._ He smiled fondly in her direction, a ruddy blush on his cheekbones.

“Morning, Lady Mila,” he said, doffing his cap and bowing gently in her direction. “I have a few things for you, arrived just this morning.” Mila hurried off the cushion in the window and met Georgi in the kitchen, waiting patiently for her items, the books she had requested, a new box of elderflower tea, lemon cakes from the pâtisserie on the square downtown, a new book of piano primers. 

Georgi smiled as he unloaded her crate, offering each item to her for approval, which she gave in simple nods and uttered words of “this smells lovely” and “oh, I can’t wait to read this”. 

“I have one more thing for you,” Georgi said after Mila had received all of her personal deliveries. “If it isn’t terribly forward of me...” Mila gasped as Georgi revealed a small bouquet of summer daisies, yellow and white with sprays of baby’s breath intermingled. 

Mila accepted the flowers, wrapped in brown butcher’s paper and tied with twine. “Oh… they’re… beautiful,” she breathed, smelling the sweet verdant scent of them. 

“I picked them myself, from the pasture on the west side of town.” Georgi said in a mirrored tone, reverent, soft. Mila caught his gaze, those brilliant sapphire eyes gleaming and eager. 

Heavy footfalls interrupted them, heralding the momentary appearance of Uncle Yakov, and Mila smirked as she pressed a quick kiss to Georgi’s sunned cheek. “Meet me in the stables after your duties are done. I need to thank you properly.” Mila whispered in his ear before whisking away her deliveries.

“P-properly?” Georgi all but squeaked as she pulled away.

“Well. Not _properly,_ I suppose. Very _improperly,_ as fact would have it.” Mila teased, throwing a wink over her shoulder and ascending the grand staircase with her heart in her throat. _I cannot believe I just did that,_ she laughed at herself internally, flushing down to the tips of her toes.


	7. Miss Katsuki & Miss Crispino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ficlet tags; mutual pining, forbidden love.

“How does that feel?” Mari asked, her lips dancing across the curve of Sara’s jaw, teasing, caressing, never enough to leave marks. Sara trembled in her arms, unsure of what to answer, her mind running too fast to grab onto a single thought. Loved, consumed, breathless. Sara never wanted her to stop, wanted her lips pressed against her skin always. 

“Mari,” she gasped, and Mari pulled back, just enough for them to lock eyes. Her deep brown gaze always made her heart pound violently against her chest. She felt taken, claimed, under the touch of her fingers. Good, she thought. Let this woman overtake me. I want to be only hers. 

“Would you like to stop?” Mari asked, and Sara pulled her closer and kissed her again, if only to show that there was nothing in the world she dreaded more than to be without her touch. Soon they would have to leave the small nook they had found and head back to the wedding party. Soon their time would be up, and Sara would have to feel her skin cool from the lack of Mari’s touches, yet again fall into despair of when she would see her again, and how long it would be until she could touch like this, if she ever would again. 

“Sara, I adore you,” Mari breathed, and it shook her to her core. Why was she fighting this, when Mari was all she wanted? Why was she such a coward that she could not go against her family’s wishes and proclaim her love? What was she fearing, when the depths of love laid in Mari Katsuki’s eyes. 

“Mari?” 

The call came from the corridor, footsteps stopping at a respectable distance. Sara knew what they meant, and even though her grip tightened on Mari’s waist, her eyes fell to the floor. “Mr. Crispino is looking for Miss Crispino.” 

Mr. Katsuki’s voice was soft, and Sara could hear the sympathy in it. Mari sighed, and she pressed closer, pressing her lips to Sara’s hair.

“You go first, since he’s looking,” she said, and even though Sara wanted nothing more than to stay, to hold on, to never let go… she did as told. 

She did not look back at Mari as she pushed away and walked out into the hallway. She curtsied swiftly to Mr Katsuki, who gave her one of his many sympathetic looks. He was good to them, she knew, for protecting them and their love. Mari had a kind little brother, and Sara should thank him. She knew she should, but at this moment she could not bring herself to. The pain in her heart was too deep, too crushing, and she feared a single word would cause the tears burning in her eyes to fall over her cheeks. 

  
  



	8. Mr. Crispino & Mr. Nekola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension boils over between childhood friends Emil and Michele after fencing practice. 
> 
> Ficlet tags: omegaverse, alpha/alpha, fencing, sexual tension. Rated M.

Emil could feel the sweat beading at his hairline beneath his mask, the inside of his glove was beginning to grow slick as their round persisted. He’d been pushing it off, trying to fend off his impending rut for nearly a week, with the Olympic scouts planning to arrive any day now to deem them fit to perform in Paris the following summer. He grit his teeth and parried a thrust aimed for his chest with an easy grace, his height no uncertain advantage. 

His opponent’s reflexes were wanting that afternoon and Emil wondered absently if something was concerning him, but he did not relent. A soft grunt fell from his opponent’s lips as Emil landed a third touch on his left shoulder, ending the match. 

Emil breathed a sigh of relief and pulled off his mask, his sandy blonde hair all but flattened to his head with the heat. Tucking it and his épée under his arm, he extended his right hand to shake, only to be batted away by his opponent. 

“How very unsportsmanlike, sir,” Emil remarked with a jovial laugh, crossing his arms as Michele removed his own mask, his lips pressed into a hard line, his eyebrows knitted together in the middle. “You won’t be impressing the Olympic committee if you can’t beat your own teammate, Mickey.”

“Stop calling me that,” his teammate snapped, his jaw clenched so tight he looked like he wanted to chew through his own teeth. “We’re adults now, did you forget?”

Emil recoiled at the harsh words from his childhood friend, the boy he had looked up to since he and his mother had come to live with the Crispinos when he was a child. They had grown up together, lived as brothers, even. But when Michele presented at sixteen, nearly four years before he had, and as an alpha, their relationship irrevocably changed. Emil idolized him, following in his footsteps at every opportunity… even Mickey’s sister had teased him for presenting as an alpha, just like Michele did. 

“How could I forget?” Emil replied, feeling his cheeks flush under his beard. “I’d say that’s enough for today.”

Mickey grunted and poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table, and Emil watched as his throat bobbed, horribly unsavory things crossing his rut-addled mind. He knew better than to drift closer, he knew better than to let his nose get the better of him, but through Michele’s jacket, through the layers of padding, he could smell the thick, earthy musk of him. He smelled like summer rain, like moss and fresh soil. 

“Why do you stare at me so?” Michele asked in a frustrated tone, his fist clenched tightly at his side. “Why have I seen you looking at me like you… like you wish to say something but don’t? So many times, Emil. Why?"

Emil noticed how close he was standing, perhaps a foot from Mickey’s side. He stepped aside, gripping his wrists behind his back. “I… I’m sorry-”

“No,” Mickey interrupted, “No more apologies, no more of this nonsense. I want answers.” There was anger, confusion in those violet eyes: it burned through Emil’s jacket and into his chest, burrowing into his heart. 

“I… I’m fond of you, Mickey, you know that,” Emil stammered, his inner alpha growling at the waves of pheromones filling the air between them, their warring, storming essences pushing against, over each other. 

“Fond? _Fond?_ ” Michele repeated, a growl rumbling in his chest. Mickey didn’t growl. Not at Emil. “Is that what you call it?” Something different tinted his scent then, and Emil’s nose caught the shift. He was wearing a scent blocker. 

“Are you…” Emil began, his alpha stirring restlessly. He swallowed thickly, recognizing the low-lying arousal he himself had been suppressing. “Mickey, are you going into rut?”

It happened in a moment, Mickey had him pinned to the wall of the gymnasium, his mouth plundering his own eagerly, angrily. A chill ran down the length of Emil's spine. As soon as it began it ended, Michele pulled away with kiss-bruised lips and something deep, aching in his eyes. 

"Mickey," Emil began, his voice rough and hoarse. "I…"

"We shouldn't. We can't. You know this. Two alphas?" Mickey said, his scent laced with fear, frustration, adoration… need.

"Who said we shouldn't?" Emil whispered, a spark of mischief and hunger lancing through him. "Who said we can't?"


	9. Mr. Katsuki and Mrs Katsuki

Hiroko smiled as she watched Mr. Nikiforov post himself up at the corner of the room once more, eyes trained on his target. The punch in her glass tasted sweet, and she sipped it as she saw him stalk across the dancefloor, only to change his mind halfway there and retreat back to his original place. It was incredibly sweet, seeing someone of such high status frett so, over something that should bring him no worry at all. Still, Hiroko was happy to see it. As a mother she reveled in the idea of someone seeing her children as equally precious as she herself found them, and if she went by Mr. Nikiforov’s nerves to simply approach her son, she would say he had seen the value of Yuuri’s attention. Mr. Nikiforov retreated back fully, and Hiroko let her attention move over to Mari instead, hoping to come back to the clearly lovestruck gentleman at a later occurrence. 

Mari was moving across the dancefloor, young Mr. Chulanont in her arms. She was a great conversationalist, mind as sharp as her tongue. Hiroko did not doubt that she would accomplish great things in her life, just as she did not doubt Yuuri would find deep happiness in his, if only one of the two lovestruck fools could gather some courage. 

“To keep a frown on such a lovely face seems a shame,” a deep voice said to her side, and Hiroko looked over with a smile to her husband, who stepped close, back by her side after having left to fill his glass with more brandy. She smiled at him, feeling a blush colour her cheeks. He was much too good to her, showering her with compliments even after so many years of marriage. “What troubles you my love?” 

“Yuuri has taken to hiding by the couches,” she explained, looking over to where her son was tucked away, alone in a darkened corner. She knew it was most likely to avoid being asked to dance by the persistent Mr. Minami or handsy Mr. Giacometti, but still, it might scare someone he did long to dance with away, even if Yuuri himself would never admit as much to his parents. “And Mr. Nikiforov has tried three times to approach him, but has run back with his tail between his legs each time, even before reaching him.” 

“Ah,” Toshiya said in understanding, glancing over between the two men. “It seems this ball might go much as the others this season have, then.” 

“It feels such a shame. What are they so afraid of?” she asked, glancing between the two men. Hiroko was sure they would make a dashing pair, and above all, she knew that Mr. Nikiforov would make Yuuri very happy. That was all that truly mattered. 

“The prospect of rejection strikes fear in the hearts of men darling,” Toshiya said, and when Hiroko looked up at him warmth swam in his gaze. “I did many aborted walks across dancefloors before I dared to ask you to join me on it.” Love warmed Hiroko to the core by the words, feeling like sunshine spread in her body. She was so happy that she had managed to gather the courage to approach him in the end. Toshiya smiled at her, and then looked out across the dance floor once more. “Perhaps they are in need of a push?” he suggested. “Much like I was.”

“Oh,” Hiroko said, feeling a smile spread on her lips. Yes. Perhaps a push was needed. “You are a wise man, Toshiya.”

“I must have been, to have managed to attain such a wonderful wife.” Hiroko blushed again, handing her glass over to her husband who simply beamed at her. It was quick work maneuvering between the guests in the ballroom, and in no time at all she had reached the gentleman she was looking for. 

Mr. Nikiforov had broad shoulders, a handsome face and silver hair that was pushed back and fastened by a blue ribbon, matching his outfit of the night. His eyes widened as she stopped in front of him, and he hurriedly bowed in greeting.    
“Mrs. Katsuki,” he said, voice warm but nervous. How unnecessary for nerves to plague him, when Hiroko had come only to ease his mind. “How lovely you look this evening.”

“Thank you, Mr. Nikiforov,” she answered kindly. “Would you extend me the pleasure of a dance?” 

“Of course,” Mr. Nikiforov hurried to agree, offering his arm for her to take. It was only a few steps out onto the dancefloor, and they easily fell into step with the ones moving across it. Mr. Nikiforov was an excellent dancer, and even though Hiroko herself was no match for her son’s grace, she kept up with him. 

“I must say,” Hiroko said after a few moments. “That my Yuuri seems awfully lonely tonight, would you not agree?” She felt Mr. Nikiforov’s grip tighten, and he looked up directly in the direction to where Yuuri sat. Hiroko had seen her son’s eyes widen as they stepped onto the dancefloor together, and she could see them trained after them now. When noticing their attention had shifted to him, Yuuri quickly averted his eyes, cheeks colouring crimson. Mr. Nikiforov looked back at her, an equally deep blush decorating his own cheeks. 

“Do you think so?” he asked, glancing back at Yuuri before he looked at Hiroko fully again. “Do you think he would mind if I asked him to dance?”

“I do believe it would be his pleasure, and it would lift a weight off of my shoulders. Could you ask him, Mr. Nikiforov, for me?” 

“Certainly,” Mr. Nikiforov agreed immediately, determination exchanging the expression of uncertainty that had earlier been evident on his face. 

“Thank you, Mr. Nikiforov. You are most kind,” she said, following his lead until the song ended. They both thanked each other properly, and then she walked towards her husband once more, standing quietly beside him as she waited. The earlier indecisiveness that had seemed to plague Mr. Nikiforov seemed as if it had vanished now, as he took sure steps towards the corner Yuuri had tucked himself into. She could not hear what was said, but Yuuri’s eyes were bright as he accepted Mr. Nikiforov’s hand and followed him onto the dancefloor. 

“Well done, my love,” Toshiya praised. “How long do you think until we’ll plan a wedding?”

“Not long at all I hope,” she admitted, unable to keep the smile of her face as she watched Yuuri’s expression turn joyous. 

**Author's Note:**

> [YOI REGENCY WEEK TUMBLR](https://yoiregencyweek.tumblr.com/)   
>  [YOI REGENCY WEEK TWITTER](https://twitter.com/YOIRegencyWeek)


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